


Friendly Conversations

by ShadowWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowWolf/pseuds/ShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or: In Which Derek Hale is Scarily Overprotective of His Little Sister and Stiles Would Really Appreciate it if Werewolves Could Stop Slamming Him into Hard Surfaces, Thank You Very Much</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on holiday and have no idea what happened in the latest episode but I'm desperately hoping that nothing happened to Cora to turn this into a canon divergent au

Stiles doesn't really know what brings him here; he knows he's not welcome. They're not even friends, not really – just acquaintances who sometimes threaten each other, and fight together … and each lunch together … and study together – okay, so maybe they're kind of friends, but definitely not the kind of friends that pace anxiously outside hospital rooms with their fists clenched tight and their nails digging into their palms because they're afraid that if they relax, even just for a moment, they might burst into tears. The scene is all too familiar, he remembers his dad pacing similar halls, probably just corridors away from where Stiles is now. His hands clench tighter.

The door flies open on his sixth circuit around the narrow hallway, and he almost trips over his own feet when he sees Derek looming over him. He doesn't look quite as threatening as usual – skin pale with worry, hair in disarray, dark circles under his eyes betraying just how little he's slept – but it makes Stiles stop all the same.

“What do you want?” Derek barks, startling a nurse as she passes by. She quickens her pace and rounds the corner without looking back, “Why are you here?”

“I – I just,” Stiles flounders. He's not entirely sure of the answer himself, he'd just wanted to make sure Cora was alright – but the thought seems silly now. If she was alright, she wouldn't be here, would she?

Derek's hand clenches in the fabric of Stiles's shirt, and Stiles's eyes widen in surprise more than fear as he's hauled suddenly and unceremoniously into the room, and slammed hard against the door. It knocks the breath out of him, and Stiles knows he'll have yet another bruise to add to his collection by this time tomorrow.

“Okay,” Stiles wheezes, hands scrambling to dislodge Derek's grip, “Okay, this has got to stop.”

“Did you think I wouldn't notice?” Derek snarls, and Stiles isn't even ashamed to say he flinches a little; he likes to think he's grown accustomed to Derek's bad moods, but even now Derek still scares him sometimes, “I can _smell_ it, every time you look at her. Lust and want and desire – it's _disgusting_.” His hand tightens in Stiles's shirt, close to his throat – too close for comfort.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Stiles grits out, but of course he does. Scott had mentioned it too – even teased him about it – and God, even Lydia had noticed. It really was pathetic.

“Stay away from my little sister.”

Stiles does a double take, “I'm sorry, what? Dude no!” He revels for a moment in Derek's dumbfounded expression before carrying on, “We go to school together – we have classes together, we eat lunch together. We _like_ each other–” He blanches, “At least _I –_ does she not like me?”

Derek continues to look perplexed, “You likeher.” He repeats after a moment. His grasp on Stiles loosens minutely.

“Seriously, that's what you're focussing on? Yes, I like her! I thought that was what this was about – me not being good enough for your little sister and all that bullshit.”

Derek shakes his head, looking pained, “I thought-”

“You thought I just wanted to have sex with her!” Stiles accuses, perhaps a fraction too loudly, and the glances nervously at the bed where Cora still sleeps soundly. The sight of her, looking so fragile wrapped in crisp white sheets, turns his stomach, and he quickly averts his gaze back to Derek, “No! _God_ , no! How could you even think that!? – I mean, not that I wouldn't; she's obviously a very attractive girl and -”

Derek purses his lips, jaw clenching, and Stiles shuts his own mouth with an audible snap.

“And I'm going to shut up now.”

Derek nods once, his expression strained, “Good idea.”

They stare at each other for a long while before Stiles starts squirming, “Do you think you could let go of me now, big guy, I've got a door handle where door handles should never be.”

Derek releases him with a loud snort, and Stiles takes the twitching of his lips (a vain attempt to hide his smile) as a small victory.

“How is she?” He asks quietly when the silence stretches too long. They both stand at the foot of her bed, Derek's hands wrapped tightly around the metal bar of the bedstead.

“I don't know.”

Stiles hesitates for a second, and then moves to take the chair by the bedside. Derek doesn't react, and so Stiles takes Cora's hand gently in his own. Her hand is cold, and he rubs it lightly in his own.

“You're going to get better.” He tells her quietly, pointedly ignoring Derek as he moves to stand behind Stiles, “You're going to get better, and when you do, I'm going to take you out on a date – a real one – no more hanging out in science labs and veterinary offices. A movie. Everyone likes movies. Man of Steel? The Wolverine? You seem like the kind of girl who'd be into superheroes-”

He cuts himself off before his voice can get too choked up, and the heavy weight of Derek's hand on his shoulder is reassuring rather than threatening.

“She'll be okay,” Derek says, and Stiles doesn't know if he's talking to Stiles or himself but he nods anyway, “She'll get through this – she's a survivor. Always has been.”

Cora's hand tightens briefly around Stiles, and he smiles, because, for once, Derek Hale might actually be right about something.


End file.
